


Here's A Letter For You

by holyhael



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-15
Updated: 2013-03-15
Packaged: 2017-12-05 10:15:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,651
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/721916
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/holyhael/pseuds/holyhael
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>HS AU. Castiel receives a letter from a secret admirer.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Here's A Letter For You

**Author's Note:**

> Especially for Jenny.

The following note was found in his locker Friday morning:

 

> Castiel
> 
> Meet me at the park downtown 4:00.
> 
> \- D

Checking to make sure he was alone - he was; no one came upstairs during lunch period until they've eaten - Castiel brought the note to his nose. Oh good God, it smelled the same. Really, all Castiel wanted to do was find a nice, private place where he wouldn't be caught and just smell the letter and the cologne infused into it all day. However, there was no such place on school grounds, and he might just feel a little silly doing that. He refolded the note, pocketed it, grabbed his lunch, and tried to suppress the thrill that made his heart career in his chest.

+

This wasn't his first note from 'D'.

He'd received one last month. It had been his first secret admirer, and Castiel had been excited. Most people at school ignored him - not that he was a loser by any definition, just very replaceable and easily forgotten - so seeing that note had given him flutters all day and into the next. He had been a buzz of anxious enthusiasm. That was until he waited beside the pouring rain for nearly an hour for this mystery person to arrive. Then, his hope had crashed and burned like a meteorite. So much for an epic teenage love story worthy of a Hallmark picture Anna would be engrossed in.

The first note was still tacked to his wall, out of place between his crisp awards and drawings. It had been folded many times and even crumpled and torn in the top right corner. If you looked very closely at it, you could see the impressions of words previously written on the paper and then erased. The wide-rule lines on the paper were bolder than normal, the margin line more red than pink. Castiel remembered it had smelled intoxicatingly aromatic the day it was delivered, as if to entice him further. One day, Castiel had caught a whiff of that cologne in the hallway, and his attempt to track down the source earned him his first tardy since middle school. The beginning of the message was densely crossed out, nearly to the point that Castiel couldn't read it, but after weeks of scrutinizing, he finally discerned what the message said originally.

 

> ~~Casteel Castiell Castiel Castyl~~
> 
> ~~Casteil Castiell~~ Cas
> 
> ~~Sorry, I'm kind of bad at this, but would you like to go out on a date sometime?~~
> 
> ~~ I like you. I think you're a pretty awesome badass. Go out on a date with me? ~~
> 
> Jackson Park. I'll be there tomorrow. 4:00. Hope to see you.
> 
> \- D ~~e~~

This new note would go right next to last month's. He walked with exuberance on the way to the cafeteria.

+

As soon as he mentioned the note, Anna was tearing it out of his hands. Her eyes scanned it, read it, searched it until Castiel regretted even bringing it up. Why had he? Just because Anna was his friend didn't mean he had to mention everything to her.

He was feeling protective of a piece of paper. God help him.

Holding the note with one hand, Anna dipped her pizza in ranch, took a bite, put it down, and would have gotten pizza grease all over the note if Castiel hadn't snatched it from her grasp. She'd seen it long enough anyway.

"So, are you going to go?" she asked, not affronted by Castiel's possessiveness and still chewing her food. Castiel tried not to grimace.

"Yes, I think so." When he received the last note and showed it to Anna, she joked ' _Who would be interested in you?_ ' in a way that Castiel supposed friends did to each other all the time. Teasing. She joked that he would probably be meeting a serial killer and that he should wear a tracking device so they could find his body later. She mentioned that it might be a hoax. This time (most likely thanks to her recent affair with romance movies and her newfound friendship with a charming young lady named Becky Rosen) she just gushed.

"What are you going to wear?"

"Um... clothes?" Did she want him to go naked?

"No, silly." Anna slapped him lightly. "I mean, yes, wear clothes, but what _kind_ of clothes are you going to wear?"

Castiel was confused as to where this these questions were going. "The ones I’m wearing now.”

Anna blanched. "No. Unacceptable. You need to wear your best. This _is_ a proper date, after all. You need to ditch the trenchcoat."

Almost unconsciously, Castiel gripped at his jacket and pulled it tighter around himself.

"I might be able to convince my brother to let you borrow something decent. I think he's about your size. We can swing by really quickly after school before your rendezvous. Oh! I totally forgot! I have tennis practice!” She looked put out for a moment. “Well, you can go see Samandriel anyway. He won’t mind.”

Castiel nodded, although he knew he wouldn’t see Anna’s brother, as pleasant as he was. Castiel didn't understand why he had to dress differently than he normally would. Wasn't that deceitful?

Anna leaned across the table. "Who do you think D is?" she asked, her voice lowering.

The question plagued Castiel often. Too often, even. Every person whose name began with the letters De was immediately suspect. Destiny Harper? Devin Fig? Delanie Armstrong? Dean Winchester? Declan McCoy? Desmond Starr? Each possibility stirred a different reaction in him, from revulsion to hope. While he was fairly certain the dark print on his notes wasn't feminine, he couldn't shut out the possibility altogether, no matter how repulsive the idea of romancing with a female was to Castiel.

Without waiting for an answer, Anna continued, "I think it's Darrel Heine. He's dreamy."

Castiel shook his head. "No, I'm sure it's not. He was the one who dropped the worm down my shirt in eighth grade, remember? The first note had an E after the D, anyway."

Anna shrugged. "More for me, then. How about Devin Fig? He's pretty slick."

He thought of the boy with straight A's in AP classes and thick-framed glasses. He didn't seem to be the sort who would call Castiel a 'badass'. "No."

"Desmond Starr?"

"The most attractive man on campus?" If Desmond was the sender, Castiel would pass out. "There's no way."

"Dean Winchester?"

He rolled his eyes at this suggestion. "Anna, I don't want your sloppy seconds."

She almost looked offended. On her hands, she counted off numbers. "Okay, one, he's not sloppy. Far from it. Two, I'm completely over him. We went out years ago; it's ancient history. Three, he was barely mine. We went out for three days, and then we broke it off."

"Yes, but in that time, you managed to sleep with him five times."

Anna's cheeks turned a deep pink color, and she ducked her head. Her bright red hair fell around her face and to the table, narrowly missing the ranch on her plate. Castiel moved the tray for her.

"To be fair, he was very good."

This was not a conversation Castiel wished to have. With a grimace, he turned the topic back to other potential secret admirers. "Do you think Declan McCoy would send this note?"

+

(If Castiel had been completely honest with Anna, he would have told her that he wouldn't have minded Dean Winchester being his secret admirer; out of all the people who D could be, Dean was one of the ones he favored [favored too much]. Castiel had been honest in that he didn't want her ex, but that's only because of the word ex. It would get awkward if Dean and Anna ever were to be in the same room with Castiel, which would be a possibility seeing as Dean was Castiel's hypothetical boyfriend and Anna was Castiel's best friend.

It wasn't as if Dean was D, anyway. It wasn't Dean's style. He was more the type to leer at the _girls_ , make them swoon with his winning smile, and invite them for a drive in his sleek Chevrolet. So Castiel pushed every longing that D was actually Dean Winchester from his mind and tried not to allow his fantasies to include a sprinkling of freckles or gleaming emerald eyes.

With this resolution in mind, when Castiel was alone and on his bed, he'd stare up at the note pinned to his wall and pull out his cock. His strokes would be fast, because he imagined D's method to be the same. The hastily impressed penmanship on the paper led Castiel to believe D would be energetic, perhaps nervous, but eager. D would want to please first - a true gentleman. D would be gentle when Castiel needed him to be, and rough when it's called for.

Castiel was well aware these fantasies were too good to be true, but it never stopped the speed at which his hand would jerk himself.)

+

There was a rumor that existed since West Kripke High School opened its doors that said the establishment was once the county prison. While untrue, it was an entertaining idea. Most of the freshman would ask the upperclassman if the rumors were true, and depending on who you asked, you got a different story. _Yes, it was. No, it wasn't. Only the most violent criminals were kept here_. Castiel liked to shrug and walk away.

Now, West Kripke felt like a penitentiary.

It was hard to concentrate on his lessons when D’s note loomed over his head. Anticipation thrummed in his veins like a drug, and it was an addicting substance indeed. All Castiel wanted was to escape from school, wait at Jackson Park until 4 o’clock, and finally see the person who’s been faceless in his head for so long.

He had government fifth period, and it was debatable whether the class was a circle of hell unmentioned in Dante’s _Inferno_. The students were expected to complete a CBA that was six paragraphs long and counted for over half of their grade. Each class period, the teacher, Mr Adler, assigned a portion of the CBA and expected it to be finished by the time the bell rang to dismiss them to their next class.

Castiel chose the topic of gay rights, not only to see the look of suppressed horror on Mr Adler's face when he announced his topic but because of his obvious personal interest in it. Currently, he was scowling at the keyboard of the school computer and trying to discern how one actually types so efficiently on these outdated keyboards. The majority of the vowel keys and the S key didn't type their assigned letter when pressed, the left shift button (his favorite one) only functioned if you applied twenty pounds of pressure to it, and the space bar only worked if you depressed it on its left side.

"You know, we don't have those Stephen Hawking computers," a voice remarked behind him. "We're not living in the future yet."

Castiel looked behind him to see, of all the people who attended West Kripke, Dean Winchester and his lecherous grin.

"Yes," he answered, "But we are living in 2013. One would think keyboards manufactured when the computer was first invented would not be acceptable for use in a classroom setting." Suddenly, he realized that _Dean Winchester,_ the young man who he’s had several fantasies of, was talking to him. Embarrassment washed over him, and he looked back to his computer screen before Dean could see the rosy color to his cheek.

“Look who’s talking.” Dean sat down in the chair beside him. The computer at it had a dusty DO NOT USE sign taped to it.

“What do you mean?” Castiel asked, furrowing his eyebrows.

“I mean, most people don’t talk like that, you know,” Dean said. “They’re all ‘FML’ and ‘Omg, this is so old’.” Dean looked over at him sharply. “Okay, don’t tell anyone I said that, ever. Swear it on your life.”

Despite himself, Castiel had to smile. “Your secret is safe with me.” Slowly, the Internet loaded onto a Wikipedia article. The first quarter of the screen filled with a message from the founder, but the rest of the page was frozen in white. Sighing, Castiel turned to Dean. “I didn’t know you were in Mr Adler’s government class.” It seemed as though Castiel would notice him in class.

Dean shook his head. “Nah. I’m a library TA, have a bit of downtime, thought you looked lonely.” He shrugged.

“But we aren’t friends,” Castiel pointed out.

“That doesn’t mean we can’t hang out,” Dean said. “Besides, you seem like a pretty awesome dude, and I’m a pretty awesome dude, so it’s like a match made in heaven.”

Castiel’s eyes widened. “Is that a flirtation?”

Dean blanched. “What? No. Why would I do that? I mean, not that you aren’t cool or anything, but… um.”

His chest pinched, but Castiel reminded himself that Dean was nothing but a pipe dream. He was everyone’s secret crush, the kind of guy most people thought just needed a couple doses of real love before he turned around his rough-n-tough ways. Castiel wasn’t exempt from sometimes imagining himself whipping Dean into a stable man. “Dean, it’s okay.”

The other teen visibly deflated and shakily laughed. “Good, because, honestly, I was having a hard time coming up with reasons not to like you.”

Assuming this must be another tease - it seemed like something Anna would say, anyway, in that sort of mocking tone of hers that she used to tell him D was a serial killer - Castiel let out a small chuckle. “I could say the same about you.”

Dean nearly beamed, and he looked down at his hands for a moment. “So, what’s your topic?”

“Gay rights.” He watched Dean closely for signs of disgust, but there was only interest in his eyes as he glanced over at the still-loading Wikipedia page. Castiel nearly sighed with relief. Living in Kansas, one couldn’t be sure about another’s stance on such a controversial issue. At times, Castiel thought the city of Lawrence was accepting and progressive, but other times, his heart sank when he heard the ministers preaching hate to their flock or saw people like Gordon Walker sneering at anything rainbow colored.

“Awesome. That’s what my topic was last semester.”

“Thats…” Castiel’s mouth opened and closed several times before he had words to provide. “Cool.”

“Hey, if you’re having trouble or something, you can borrow my notes,” Dean offered. “I think I still have them somewhere.”

“Why would I be having trouble with this assignment?” Castiel asked. “If anything, I should find this easier than you.”

“What, because you’re certified gay?” Dean rolled his eyes. “You don’t have to go to the clubs or have rainbows shooting out of your ass to be a decent person, and you don’t need any of that shit to write a paper about basic human rights.”

Castiel was lost for words. When he finally found them, he said, “I didn’t know you felt so strongly about gay rights.”

Dean just shrugged. “You’re not the only one.”

They sat in silence until the Wikipedia page finally digitalized. When it did, Castiel took his notes dutifully, marking words and phrases he wanted to research on his much-faster computer at home. He felt Dean’s gaze on him all the while, and it made him a little self-conscious about the way the crosses on his _T_ s were lopsided and the way his _E_ s sometimes looked like _C_ s if he wasn’t paying attention.

“Dean!” a voice barked from the library desk. Castiel recognized the abrasive voice of Bobby Singer, the librarian, instantly. The old man was perhaps the only librarian who didn’t care for the silent rule. “Quit flirtin’ and get your ass over here.”

Castiel’s cheeks inflamed. Looking over at Dean, he saw the other teen was a similar pink color, and the tint made the freckles beneath his eyes and on his cheeks become more prominent. Castiel hadn’t noticed there were so many of them before.

“Bobby, I wasn’t doing anything!” Dean whined. Castiel felt inclined to join him, but he kept his protests against Dean leaving in his throat.

“Exactly.” Bobby pushed a cart of books in his direction. “Get busy.” With that, he turned back into his office, leaning heavily on his cane.

Dean groaned as he stood out of his chair. “Well, it was nice talking with you, Cas. See you around.” He hit the back of Castiel’s chair before he left. Castiel was as frozen as his computer screen. _Cas?_

He watched Dean as he pushed the cart of books that needed re-shelving back around to the fiction section, twisting in his seat for a better angle. Where had that nickname come from? And why did Castiel have to like it so much?

He shook himself out of these thoughts when Mr Adler called for their research to be turned in. Castiel turned back around and looked down at the meager notes he had been able to record. Perhaps the reason he is failing government is not just because of the poor internet connection and Mr Adler’s despise for him but because he fantasized about boys he had no hope of ever getting into a relationship with. Today hadn’t been the first time…. Sighing, Castiel handed Mr Adler his paper. He didn’t miss the flash in the man’s eyes, and when Castiel turned around, he didn’t miss the way that Dean was turning his head away from their direction.

+

_His backpack felt too heavy, his shoes too big, his eyes too wet as he marched down the empty hall to class. School had started nearly an hour ago, but given the circumstances, no one minded Dean coming in late. It was encouraged, in fact. Mrs Mills had even told Dean he should take another week off, but he couldn’t stand the way his dad stared at nothing, the way Sam kept sniffling his nose._

_Mrs Mills kept one hand on his back to guide him as if he’d forgotten his way to Mr Henricksen’s fourth grade class in the week of his absence. Dean was sort of glad for it, though he’d shied away at first._

_The moment the door to the classroom was pushed open, the class silenced completely. Dean couldn’t meet their eyes longer than a nanosecond, the pity and sick curiosity making them shine. He kept his gaze on the windows as he shuffled to his desk. Mrs Mills conversed with Mr Henricksen briefly before leaving._

_“Dean,” Mr Henricksen called softly. Dean obediently met him at his desk. “If you need to excuse yourself at anytime, you don’t have to ask. You can just leave, got it?”_

_Dean nodded, but he knew he’d never do that. It felt like showing weakness, which he was determined not to do. He could be strong, for his brother and for himself. Mr Henricksen smiled in that pitying way Dean had gotten used to since the fire, and his dark eyes could barely meet Dean’s. This was his dismissal. Dean plodded back to his desk with the entire class’ eyes on him. It made him want to squirm._

_One kid wasn’t looking at him, though, and that was the boy who had been sitting next to Dean since their last seating rearrangement. His nose was stuck in a book - it was silent reading time. It was still early in the year, so Dean didn’t know his name, but he looked over the other kid’s shoulders as he passed behind him to look at his name tag._ Castiel Novak _the wide strip of paper read. The handwriting was much neater than Dean’s or the rest of the class’. Dean wanted to thank him for not staring like the other kids were, but he didn’t want to speak, afraid that his voice would break and afraid of having to explain his gratitude, which could probably lead to bringing up his mother. So Dean didn’t say anything to Castiel until he reached into his backpack during math and realized he didn’t have his crayons with him to graph with._

_Hesitantly, Dean asked, “Hey, can I borrow a crayon?”_

_Castiel looked up at him with blue eyes that reminded Dean of the time his mom had taken him to the ocean. “Of course.”_

_Dean tried on a smile. “Thanks.” He hoped Castiel understood it wasn’t just for the crayon. However, it didn’t look like Castiel thought his thanks extended to anything but the blue crayon pushed his way, as he just nodded in acknowledgement and readied his green crayon against the handout._

+

After school, he walked out to the parking lot to wait for Anna, leaning against her Volkswagen. He wanted to tell her about Dean Winchester. He wanted to know what she thought, because Castiel was sure he was missing something when he replayed their exchange in his head. It didn’t make sense to him why Dean would initiate a conversation with him.

Also, the short exchange had stirred up an old longing in Castiel. His small crush on Dean was one of those that you forgot was there until something, or someone, came along to reignite it. Guilt gnawed at his stomach because he realized that perhaps seeing D wasn’t a good idea, not while Castiel had feelings for another person. He needed Anna to tell him what to do, but she wasn’t there. Usually, she was very dependable. Castiel felt small and alone waiting for her.

Most of the other students and their vehicles have gone already. Castiel guessed the remaining cars belonged to students involved in after school activities. He spotted the Impala in the back of the lot. It was no secret the sleek, obsidian beauty belonged to Dean Winchester; he boasted openly about it and dubbed it female. One time, someone had scratched the paint and Dean’s anger was so explosive that, during the week following his suspension for punching the transgressor, students gave him wide berth in the halls.

It took ten more minutes for Anna to respond to the text Castiel had sent her.

 

> _From: Anna Milton 14:27_
> 
> _I told u i hve practice_

He frowned. He’d forgotten Anna had tennis practice on Fridays.

 

> _To: Anna Milton 14:28_
> 
> _It’s fine._

Resigned to walking the five miles home, Castiel pushed off the car.

“Hey, Cas!”

_Dean Winchester._

Castiel turned around to see him with his younger brother trailing not far behind. It looked like Sam was fighting industriously not to smile. Castiel wondered what had the freshman so amused.

“What’re you doing out here?” asked Dean. He had both of his hands tucked into his leather jacket’s pockets.

“I was just leaving,” Castiel informed him. “I’d forgotten that Anna has practice today.”

“She’s your ride?” Castiel nodded. “How about you hitch one with us? It’s freezing out here.”

“I’m not sure…”

Sam surprised both Castiel and Dean by piping up, “Come on, Castiel. Dean’d like it if- Hey!”

Dean had smacked his younger brother in the back of the head, although not cruelly. Sam raised a hand to rub the spot, and he glared at Dean. “Would you stop that? I’m going to have a permanent bump on my head.”

“Then you’ve gotta learn how to keep your trap shut,” Dean told him. A look passed between them, and Sam rolled his eyes away with an expressive sigh. Dean asked, “So, you coming, Cas?”

It didn’t take very long to realize that Castiel would very much like to ride in the Impala, if not to coddle his laziness then to have the opportunity to talk with Dean some more.

“I would like that, yes,” he said, and he smiled when Dean did.

“Right. Come on.” Dean jerked his head in the direction of the Impala.

It was very clear Dean took care of his car arduously. Castiel didn’t think he’d ever seen it less reflective than it was now. There was no dent to be found on the body, the headlights were clear, and windows were washed on the inside and on the outside. Castiel couldn’t visualize Dean taking his car to the carwash off of 5th Street, so he imagined Dean taking hours every weekend to keep her in as good of a condition as she was the day she rolled off the line. He admired Dean’s devotion to her.

“Here, you’ve got shotgun,” Sam offered up. He even held the door open for Castiel.

“Thank you,” he said, glancing warily between the two brothers. The expression on Dean’s face was indecipherable while Sam’s was smug.

“No problem.” Sam smiled as he slid into the backseat. Castiel only got in once Dean opened his door and stepped inside as well. The leather seat felt cool against Castiel’s palm. The car’s interior smelled mostly like greasy burgers, and a few fast food wrappers littered the footwell.

“Sorry about that,” Dean muttered. He leaned over to collect the wrappers in one hand. His shoulder grazed Castiel’s leg, and even though the touch was accidental, it brushed against his note in the pocket of his trenchcoat and reminded Cas yet again of its existence. Suddenly, he felt as if he was being unfaithful to D by allowing the soft thrum of electricity to course up his spine at Dean’s touch. Of course, this concern would be moot if Dean and D were one and the same. This would explain why Dean was being so friendly lately, although it wouldn’t clarify why he sent the notes in the first place. It wasn’t his _modus operandi_.

Castiel wondered if he could work the note into conversation somehow. While he didn’t have much tact when it came to conversations, he was sure he could manage to bring up his note without appearing too awkward.

“So, where’s your nest?” Dean asked as he turned the key in the ignition. The car responded immediately, choking out a deep rumbling that was very satisfying.

“My nest?”

“He’s not a bird, Dean,” Sam said.

Dean just shrugged.

Oh, he was asking Castiel where he lived. Castiel tried on a smile. “My… nest is New Warren,” he responded.

Dean’s eyebrows furrowed. “The apartment complex?”

“Yes. It’s the one closest to the Safeway.”

“I know where it is. We can swing that.”

“Is it too far out of your way?” Castiel asked. He would gladly walk home if that was the case.

Dean shook his head. “No, it’s literally, like, three blocks away.”

“Oh. Okay.” Not knowing what else to say, he looked out the window to the city passing by as he tried to come up with possible ways to broach his note. However, whatever came into his head was just too wrong.

Sam was the one to break the silence by asking, “So, Castiel, how was your day?”

“It was good, thank you.” Castiel realized this was probably his best opening to mention his note. He silently thanked Sam for the prelude. “Something happened, though…”

“Yes?”

Castiel looked behind him to see Sam’s face. It was clearly excited for something despite how much the freshman was trying to suppress it.

“It’s absurd, really. Somebody left a note in my locker,” Castiel told them. He watched Dean’s expression carefully, but it didn’t change much. His eyes tightened only infinitesimally. Unless Dean was better than his brother at containing his emotions, he was not D. Castiel told himself it was ridiculous for him to even entertain the idea that Dean was D. The disappointment dropping his stomach into his feet was wholly uncalled for.

“What, so you’ve been _secret admirer_ ’d?” asked Dean. His eyes left the road to look at Castiel.

“I believe so, yes.”

“Just don’t let anyone else see it; it’ll turn into a whole big mess if you do. Your mom will find the letter and think it was for your dad from his professor-”

“My parents are dead,” Castiel stopped him. It was reflex reaction whenever somebody brought them up, but suddenly Castiel realized that now was probably not the time to go into family history. Before Dean could bumble out an apology, Castiel added, “It’s okay. You didn’t know.”

Dean leaned into his seat, something flashing in his bottle green eyes. Before Castiel could comprehend what it was, Sam slapped his brother in the back of his head.

“Way to go, Dean.”

“He didn’t know,” Castiel reiterated. “It’s okay.”

“So who do you live with,” Dean asked, “If not your parents?”

Castiel appreciated that Dean was comfortable not hedging around the topic. Most people thought they would be too insensitive, and they refused to bring up the deceased Mr and Mrs Novak. “My brother, Michael, gained guardianship of me when I was eight,” he disclosed. Castiel remembered the day the paperwork had been finalized. Their parents had died three years prior, and because Michael wasn’t a legal adult, the Novak boys were both wrung through the foster care system until Michael became of age. Ever since, Castiel and Michael have lived in New Warren with their cat Muffler.

Dean nodded. “If you don’t mind me asking, what happened?”

“I don’t mind,” Castiel said truthfully. In fact, he was very happy that Dean was interested. Castiel could tell he was and not just asking so he could spread the juicy details or because he felt he had to. He wasn’t like Balthazar, whose response was to pretend it never happened. “They were hit by an intoxicated driver.”

“Ah, so a Friday night out on the town and them BAM?”

“No, a Tuesday afternoon.”

Silence descended upon the car, much more awkward than it had been before. Castiel again took to staring out the window. He was surprised to see that he was almost home. He didn’t want the ride to end, but he unbuckled when the car came to a halt beside the New Warren’s neon sign anyway.

“Thank you,” Castiel said.

Dean was smiling when he turned to Castiel. “Anytime, Cas. I mean it.”

His eyes were so green and earnest. They looked like planets to Castiel, and he wanted to visit them so badly. Dumbstruck, all Castiel could do was say again, “Thank you.” He didn’t really want to leave. “Um, I think I’d like to borrow your notes,” he said, feeling his cheeks growing warm. He hoped it wasn’t too noticeable. “If the offer is still open.”

“Yeah, of course,” Dean said. “I’ll swing by tomorrow.”

“I appreciate it.” With that, Castiel grabbed the door handle and let himself out. Castiel told himself that he would not look back, but his resolve broke when he reached his door. The Impala was still idling there, and it looked like Dean was watching him. Castiel waved and let himself into the apartment before he could see Dean’s responding farewell.

+

In his room, he took the note out of his pocket and pinned it to the wall. It was much neater than the last one. The handwriting was even less harried, more elegant than last month’s. Castiel studied the different scripts with a sharp eye and wondered at the difference. Was D just more confident now? That was the assumption that Castiel’s mind came up with first, and he stuck to it.

When Muffler jumped onto the bed and mewed, Castiel cradled her in his arms and showed her the paper. “I’ve got a new letter,” he told her, even though he knew she didn’t care and that all she wanted was for her food dish to be topped.

Muffler meowed and twisted out of his arms. Castiel frowned - Muffler never did seem to like him - and commented, “Well, at least someone wants me.” Muffler’s only response was to meow some more and bite at the cuff of Castiel’s pants. “Too bad it’s not Dean Winchester.”

+

_“Who’s that?” Sam asked, coming up beside Dean, who quickly averted his eyes from his classmates climbing on the jungle gym. He felt his cheeks warm up beneath the sun._

_“Nobody.” Dean put as much nonchalance in his tone as he could. “Just some kid.” He leaned back onto his hands, and the green mesh of the picnic table impressed his palms._

_Sammy stared unabashedly at Castiel as he played with his friends on the jungle gym. “What’s his name?”_

_“Cas something-of-another.” Dean shrugged. “He’s in my class.”_

_Sam thought for a moment. “Why don’t you go talk to him?”_

_Dean immediately stared at his brother like he was full of worms. “Why would I do that?”_

_“Don’t people do that?” Sammy asked, ever the innocent first grader. “Talk to the people they like?”_

_“Well, what do you think I’m doing with you?”_

+

Named after the elementary school it was built for, Jackson Park was the preferred playground of any self-respecting child. The elementary school had been shut down shortly after Castiel finished sixth grade due to budgeting problems. Today, children flocked to the park at every opportunity. Being nearly four o’clock, however, meant that the closest elementary school had only just released its students for the weekend, so the park was desolate. It reminded Castiel of the apocalypse as the swings creaked gently in the breeze.

The park was well-equipped. There was a large field populated by crickets, a soccer field, the swing sets, a jungle gym, two slides, three different sets of monkey bars, two tetherball courts, two sandpits, and an enclosed basketball court. Surveying all of this from one of the three picnic benches, a wave of nostalgia washed over Castiel.

There was no sign of D yet, but Castiel was five minutes early to their appointment. He found the spool of his patience running thin as his watch blinked closer and closer to four o’clock and D did not show himself.

+

_“Are you kidding? Do you know how cliched this is?”_

_Jo leveled glare at him, and though she was a few years younger than him, Dean knew she could fuck him up worse than even most of the jocks at school. “Sit down, Dean. Before I make you.”_

_He hated how much the blonde scared him and he hated that he immediately complied. Jo’s intimidating look turned into one of satisfaction as he sank into the couch beside Chuck. “There.”_

_“Are we going to get started or what?” Bela asked. “If all we’re going to do is sit around, count me out.”_

_“Nobody wanted to count you in the first place,” Chuck muttered lamely. Dean gave him a pat on the back for at least trying, and Bela rolled her eyes and crossed her arms over her chest._

_“You don’t have to be here,” Jo said. “None of us are making you stay.”_

_“Yeah, but then I won’t get the dirt,” Bela argued. “That’s the entire point of this game.”_

_“The point is to have fun,” Charlie inputted. “The gossip potential is just a perk.” Her easy grin was lost on Bela, and it faltered the longer the exchange student failed to react positively._

_Chuck swallowed half of his beer as a waiting silence covered the friends. Eventually, Dean got sick of it and called out, “Hey, Sammy, would you hurry up! We’re starving over here!”_

_“Yeah, what’s taking so long?” Jo shouted, craning her neck to get a view of the front door. Dean copied her, but he saw nothing but Sam’s back and the edges of a pile of pizza boxes. After a couple seconds of spying, Sam leaned to one side enough for Dean to catch a glimpse of the pizza delivery boy. No, the pizza delivery girl. Despite his brief glimpse, Dean grinned as he recognized the dark, curly hair and short stature as Amelia Richardson, otherwise known as the apple of Sammy’s puppy dog eyes._

_“Why don’t you invite her inside?” Bela suggested loudly, impatiently._

_Amelia poked her head out from behind Sam’s gangly frame. “Sorry, girls. I’m going to have to sit this one out.”_

_“Hey!” Chuck and Dean cried out. Jo waved them off, rolling her eyes._

_“Maybe next time, though,” Amelia promised. Her smile grew wider as she gave her attention back to Sam. “So, I’ll see you in algebra tomorrow?”_

_Dean knew his brother was a hundred shades of roses as he bumbled out, “Yeah, see you then.”_

_“Real smooth, Sammy, real smooth.”_

_“Someone hit him for me, please.”_

_Jo obliged, always happy to inflict violence onto hapless saps such as Dean. Chuck halfheartedly joined her, and Dean shoved him back. Alcohol sloshed onto Chuck’s tee. “Aw, man!”_

_“Go change,” Charlie said, her nose wrinkling with distaste. “Second door on the right is Harry’s room. He won’t mind you infiltrating his wardrobe”_

_“Thanks.”_

_The awkward teen shuffled out of the living room. As soon as he was off the couch, Sam took his spot, plopping the pizza boxes onto the coffee table. Jo grabbed for a slice, muttering, “About time,” and biting off a monstrous portion of her meat lover’s. Both Bela and Charlie took a slice of Hawaiian, Bela handing Charlie the one with the largest bubble in the crust, which made Charlie smile and blush._

_Sam deflated into the cushions and rubbed his eyes with his hand. “You guys are so embarrassing, I don’t even know why I hang out with you.”_

_“Because no one else likes you?” Bela piped up with a mouthful of pizza. Sam bitch-faced at her, but the stubborn Brit wasn’t easily brought down by his glares. She simply shrugged. “Let’s get on with it, shall we?”_

_“We should wait for Chuck,” Jo suggested._

_“I don’t think he’ll mind if we start without him,” Charlie said._

_Dean rolled his eyes up to the ceiling. “Why do we have to do this anyway? There are trillions of other things we could be doing. We could solve world hunger, for instance.”_

_Bela eyed him speculatively. “Since you’re so opposed to the game, why don’t we start with you?”_

_“Me?” Dean did not squeak. “Come on.”_

_Charlie was grinning. “It’s only fair, Dean.”_

_“Fair?”_

_“Well, yeah. I mean, I think everyone knows our classified information already, but none of us know yours.”_

_Everyone present was eagerly agreeing with the redhead, eyes turned Dean’s direction in a way that made him remember dreams where he had to stand in front of the classroom as God made him._

_“Everyone’s privy to everyone’s classified info?” Dean repeated, eyebrow raised. “You willing to put money on that?” Surreptitiously, he glanced at Bela._

_Suddenly, Charlie’s confidence withered, and she started fidgeting with her cuffs. “Maybe Dean’s right.”_

_“No, don’t let him hypnotize you!” Jo exclaimed. “Winchester, you are not weaseling yourself out of this one.”_

_He looked at each of their expressions and knew they would be relentless in badgering secrets out of him. With a sigh, he gave in. “Fine. Have at it.”_

_Jo grinned as she scooted closer to him. The devilish glint in her eyes filled Dean with dread. “So, Dean Winchester, truth or dare?”_

_“I’d say dare, but I know you won’t let me.”_

_“Okay, so truth.” Dean didn’t think she could smile wider, but she was. Everyone’s attention was held by her, the queen. “Who do you like?”_

_Of course that would be her question. Dean rolled his eyes. “You can’t be more original?”_

_“Nope,” Charlie chirped._

_“Now answer the question, Winchester,” Bela ordered. “There’s a pair of scissors in my hands and I’m not afraid to use them.”_

_He looked over to see, indeed, that she wasn’t lying about the scissors. The thought of what she would undoubtedly do to him with them made him want to shudder._

_“Fine, fine.” He took great effort in appearing aloof. If any of them really knew the truth about the person Dean was crushing on… Dean really didn’t want to know. “Lisa.”_

_Sam stared at him incredulously. “Lisa Braeden?”_

_“Yeah.”_

_Charlie covered her mouth with a gloved hand to try to hide her loud snorts. “Really, Dean?”_

_“We aren’t buying what you’re selling, so tell us the truth,” Bela said._

_At this time, Chuck returned from Harry’s room in a white button up. He found room to sit between Sam and the armrest. “What’s going on?”_

_“Dean_ claims _he has a crush on Lisa Braeden,” informed Jo._

_“Lisa?” Chuck frowned for a moment. “I thought you liked that one kid?”_

_As Dean’s cheeks began to burn hot, everyone else was turning to Chuck, mouths agape. “What one kid?” Charlie asked for them._

_Chuck’s face screwed up as he tried to remember. Thankfully, it was clear that Chuck had pretty much no idea, and he vaguely answered, “Um, well, he’s in our grade…”_

_“He?” Jo’s eyebrows shot up. “Dean, is that true?”_

_“So what if it is?” he snapped back, glaring at everyone around the living room. He dared anyone to say anything about it, to make any jokes, to ask him how long he’s been in the closet, to tell him he can’t have a crush on a dude because_ hey, I thought you liked women?

_Perhaps there really was a God because none of his friends said anything more about his sexuality, which was a blessing rare to the Winchester name._

_At his side, Sam was hitting the air with his fist as he jogged his memory. “Oh, oh!”_

_“What?” Charlie and Bela piped up._

_Dean’s eyes widened and his stomach dropped, although the back of his mind whispered that he shouldn’t be surprised that Sam knew. The kid was like this generation’s Einstein or Neil deGrasse Tyson, especially where Dean was concerned. Just as Dean knew his little brother inside and out, Sam knew him. So it shouldn’t be surprising._

_He still glared daggers at the undersized, gangly moose and hissed at him, warning wedgies straight out of Hell and Nair-laced shampoo. “Sammy!”_

_“Come on, spit it out,” Jo encouraged._

_“It’s that kid,” Sam said just as helpfully as Chuck. He beat the air a little while more. “He’s always wearing that trenchcoat, has dark hair-”_

_“Oh!” Charlie sat up, grinning with her eyes wide. Dean sort of wished he was dead. “I know him! He’s in my government class!”_

_“Well, what’s his name?” Bela asked._

_“Um… it’s a really weird name,” Charlie started._

_Suddenly, Sam jumped up. “Castiel!”_

_Dean’s life was officially over._

_Bela narrowed her eyebrows at Dean. “Really, Winchester? That kid?”_

_“He’s not a kid,” he grumped, crossing his arms over his chest._

_“Of course not, sweetie.” Bela’s smile was falsely sweet. Dean had the feeling she was thinking of ways to use this information against him. No, it was more than a feeling; it was a knowledge._

_Sam leaned in to recapture Dean’s attention. “You still like him?”_

_“Still?” Jo repeated. Her mouth was full of pizza._

_Sam nodded. “Yeah, way back in - what was it? Fifth grade for you? Dean had it bad.”_

_“I’m going to kill you, Sammy,” Dean gritted out._

_“It’s payback, bitch,” he shot back._

_“For what, jerk?”_

_“For embarrassing me in front of Amelia!”_

_“That wasn’t embarrassing,” Dean said. “That was me doing my big brother job.”_

_“And this is me doing my little brother job.”_

_“Enough!” Bela exclaimed. She glared at Dean and Sam in turn until their taut shoulders and jaws relaxed. With that settled, Bela smiled to herself. “How about someone else has a go. Get Dean out of the ring for a tic. This is getting drab.”_

_The grateful look Dean shot her was largely ignored as she turned to Charlie and asked, “Truth or dare?”_

_Facing the challenge with her easy smile, Charlie confidently answered, “Dare.”_

_A vicious grin unfurled itself over Jo’s face. “Oh, I’ve got this one!”_

_“Why does she get to pick?” Dean asked Sam. “I couldn’t pick dare. Nooooo.”_

_Bela glared hard at Jo. “I’m the one who asked the question, Miss Nebraska,” she asserted, “So it seems only appropriate that I get to assign her a dare.”_

_Jo gave up with a sigh. “Fine. But my dare was off the hook. Nothing’ll be able to top it.”_

_Before Bela could tell Charlie what to do, Charlie turned to Jo. “What was your dare, Jo?”_

_“I just going to dare you to kiss Bela.” Jo shrugged. “Not that big a deal, really, but you know.”_

_For a moment, a spark kindled and died in Charlie’s eyes. Her voice sank. “Oh.”_

_Bela shrugged. “Doesn’t sound bad. Come on, Red. Let’s do this.”_

_“R-really?”_

_“Yeah.” Bela patted her lap as a signal for Charlie to get onboard, which the geek did eagerly. Wrapping her arms around Bela’s neck, she swooped down and got a mouthful of British tongue._

_Jo was beaming at her job well done, while Chuck kept his eyes on his pizza. Sam leaned into Dean to whisper, “Hey, maybe we should play this game with Cas.”_

_Dean promptly shoved him into Chuck, causing Chuck to drop his pizza into his lap cheese side down._

+

_“Heya, Sammy!” Ruby greeted, slumping down onto the chair closest the ninth grader. The kid was hunched over a piece of paper, which has been crossed out plenty of times. As Ruby hovered closer to get a peek, Sam put his arm over whatever he was writing._

_“I told you to stop calling me that!” he exclaimed._

_Ruby shrugged. “What’re you working on? I didn’t know you did your homework in the cafeteria.”_

_“It’s not homework,” replied Sam._

_“Then what is it?” She attempted to catch a glance at the paper, but Sam was very obstinate about shielding it from her. “Aw, are you writing me a love letter? Sam, you shouldn’t have!”_

_Sam glared at her with a look that screamed ‘I am so done with you’. “It’s not for you,” he grumped._

_Ruby’s interest was definitely piqued now. “Who’s the lucky girl, then? That pretty brunette one in our English class?”_

_Even though Sam’s cheeks turned pink, he shook his head. “No, it’s for my brother.”_

_Ruby’s eyebrows shot up in disbelief. “Wow. Didn’t know you were into that kind of thing. I’m just gonna…”_

_“No! Oh my God, no!” Sam bunched his hair in his fists, his face even redder than it was just a few seconds ago as he realized what he said. Ruby, however, saw this as an opportunity to see just what the kid was doing. Before Sam knew what was happening, she snatched up the paper and held it far above the little ninth grader’s reach to read it._

_“Who’s… Casteel? Casteye-el? What the hell kind of name is that?”_

_“Hey! Give it back!” Sam jumped up and attempted to reach for the paper, which only made Ruby hold it higher above their heads. The paper wrinkled and tore as Sam climbed onto a chair and successfully seized it back from her. He smoothed it over on the table but the damage was already done._

_“You don’t even know how to spell the name. This isn’t going to do your little crush jack shit.”_

_The bitch-face was back again. “It’s not my little crush; it’s my brother’s.” Ruby waited for Sam to elaborate, and with a sigh he did. “He’s had this crush since practically the dawn of time. Last night I realized he still liked Cas but he wasn’t going to do anything about it, so I’m taking the initiative for him.”_

_“So you’re going to pretend to be your brother and shove secret admirer’s note into some poor sap’s locker? Some original plan you’ve got there, Sally Shipley.”_

_“It’s going to work!” Sam exclaimed._

_Ruby rolled her eyes. “Yeah, right. Why don’t you just go up to this kid? Why write the note? It’s obviously a plan for failure. Does this actually sound like something Dean would ever say?” She poked the first line that wasn’t scribbled out misspellings. “‘Sorry, I'm kind of bad at this, but would you like to go out on a date sometime?’ That’s something you would say, not Dean.”_

_With a considering frown, Sam stared down at the words for a moment before they, too, were erratically crossed out. “You’re right. He’d call Cas a badass.” He brought the pen down on the paper and made the words tangible. However, Ruby still didn’t think they were quite right._

_“Yeah, but now what? Are you just going to end the note there? How about actually setting them up on a date? If you’re going to write a note, at least do it right. Here.” She grabbed for the pen, but Sam held it out of her reach._

_“What?”_

_“Just put down a date, a time, and a location.”_

_Sam did as he was instructed, then he crossed out the line he wrote previously. Scrutinizing his work and seemingly happy with it, Sam signed the note with the first two letters of Dean’s name but then thought better of it and crossed out the_ E _._

_“Now all we have to do is get Dean to Jackson Park at four.” Ruby nodded her head. “Not impossible. Just write another note and pass it off to him.”_

_Sam shook his head in agreement. He folded up the note and was about to put it in his pocket when Ruby stopped him, a glorious idea forming in her head._

_“Hey, how about you spritz some of Dean’s cologne on there, too. That shit smells heavenly.”_

_Although Sam seemed weirded out by her last statement, he agreed to the plan with a nod. “I’ll just tell him I need it for after gym.”_

_Ruby smiled. “We’re a good team, Sammy. We should play matchmaker more often. Hey, maybe we can get you and Amy together, too!”_

_He glared at her, cheeks turning red again. “It’s Amelia. She doesn’t like being called Amy.”_

_“Whatever. It’s not like knowing names is important here. I mean, look at this letter! How do you pronounce that?”_

_“Castiel.”_

_Ruby racked her memory for a face to put to the name, but she didn’t think she’d even heard of it before. She shrugged. “Why doesn’t Dean just chase it? He’s done it before with plenty of girls.”_

_“Cas isn’t a girl.”_

_That stopped Ruby, but not for long. “Huh. Didn’t know your brother swung that way.” She filed the information away in a safe place for future reference._

_“Dean? He swings any place he wants to. He’s like a… conical pendulum around a maypole.” Sam shrugged. “I don’t really ask about it.”_

_The bell rang for them to get their butts back to class, so Ruby winked at Sam and waved farewell. “Let me know how it goes!” She wasn’t sure if Sam promised to follow through with her request when she turned around to leave, but then again, if high school could be trusted, she’ll be hearing all about this little scandal later. Who sent secret admirer notes anymore, anyway? Especially poorly written ones like that? Sam’s plan was totally going to tank. And Ruby will be watching from the sidelines with a bucket of extra buttery popcorn and a grin on her face._

+

_“You want me to what?” Dean stopped walking and looked down at his brother incredulously._

_“Go to the park,” Sam reiterated. “It’ll be god for you.”_

_His eyes felt like they were going to pop out they were so wide as Dean tried to see everything and determine why in the hell Sam wanted him to go to Jackson Park. “Dude, it’s raining cats and dogs.”_

_This didn’t seem to deter Sam in his odd request. “Please!”_

_“No.” He started walking again, pushing the entrance door open to go outside. Seconds after walking out from under the overhang he was soaking. The weather was very unusual for Kansas. “Come on, let’s go home.”_

_“Dean, please just go. I promise it’ll make sense when you get there.”_

_“You just want me to get pneumonia, right? That way I won’t have to go to your band concert tomorrow.”_

_“You caught me. Now can we please go to Jackson Park?”_

_Dean rolled his eyes. “I’m missing a Doctor Sexy marathon.” With that, he marched out to the Impala, paying Sam’s protests as much attention as a fly would garner. Sam pouted. He should have thought this far, should have thought that Dean wouldn’t go to his locker, too. When Sam asked where his locker was, Dean laughed and said, “Hell if I know.” He’d tried to slip the note into Dean’s backpack, but Dean never liked to have Sam out of his sights if he could help it, overprotective brother that he was. Sam just hoped that if he couldn’t get Dean out to Jackson Park in time that Castiel hadn’t received his note, either._

+

Castiel had just texted Anna to tell her he was giving up on D again when he heard a familiar thundering sound, one that he’d heard recently. But _no,_ it couldn’t be. Something almost like hope sprouted wings in his chest and took flight as he turned to the parking lot, empty save for the night-black Impala idling in what used to be a teacher-designated parking space. The engine cut, and the silence that came after was nearly deafening until the door opened and Dean Winchester stepped out from it. He looked around for a moment before he spotted Castiel, and when he did, a small smile split the his features as he walked over. Castiel could not believe it. He stood up from the picnic bench. His heart stormed against his ribs, the beat of it powerful enough to be heard in his ears, and it almost sounded like _Dean_ as much as it sounded like _dreaming_.

“Hey, Cas,” greeted Dean as he approached. There was a hint of confusion in his eyebrows that had Castiel’s rioting heart faltering and sinking. “What’re you doing here?”

It crumbled Castiel’s hope like stale bread, and now the word his pulse was trying to whisper to him became clear: _stupid_. His own mind had hoodwinked him, and he wanted to laugh and berate himself for ever getting the idea of Dean wanting him into his head.

Castiel wondered for a moment if he should tell Dean the truth, and he came to the conclusion that it wouldn’t hurt. Even if Dean wasn’t D, maybe he knew who was. ( _Or maybe_ , Castiel’s mind whispered, _Anna had been right last month and this has all been an elaborate prank._ Although why target him? What had he done to deserve any ill-wishes and jokes?)

“My secret admirer asked to meet me here,” Castiel told him. “I don’t believe he’s coming.” It was a quarter after four now.

“It’s not like you want someone like him anyway, right?” Dean asked. “The guy’s a jellyfish. If he can’t go up to you and say, ‘Hey, Cas, I think we’ve got something,’ then he’s no good for you.”

Castiel thought about it for a moment and came to the conclusion that Dean was right. If D couldn’t even approach him in person at school and he cancelled last month, there was no indication that he’d be able to go through with it this time.

“You’re right.” Castiel let out all the air in his lungs, watching Dean through the fog his exhale created. Disappointment made the effort to breathe just a little bit harder. As he tried to get a handle on his bodily functions, a question suddenly rose to his mind. “Wait. Why are you here?”

“Oh, Sam asked me to collect soil samples.” Dean rolled his eyes. “Lazy kid can’t do it for himself. He’s got a horticulture project about what soil is better to propagate in.”

“I won’t keep you from it, then,” Castiel said, bowing his head in goodbye. However, before he could walk further than a couple steps, Dean stopped him.

“Hey, we can chill. Come on, help me find some dirt.”

Castiel didn’t think about it very long before he was nodding and taking the shovel Dean handed him. Exchanging smiles, Castiel followed Dean when he tilted his head in the direction of the tree line on the other side of the soccer field. Dean explained that Sam needed at least seven samples of dirt from seven different locations and that two were already collected from the front of the Winchester’s home and the garden at school. Castiel loved listening to Dean talk about his brother because it was clear that Dean was actually very excited for Sam and being able to help him with his school projects.

“He’s so smart that he skipped second grade, the lucky duck. He’s going to be a lawyer when he’s all grown up,” said Dean. “Maybe an environmental lawyer what with how much he likes this hippy plant stuff.”

“What about you, Dean?” Castiel couldn’t resist asking.

“What about me?”

“What career would you like to pursue?”

Dean stretched up, a pensive look furrowing his eyebrows together. Castiel stood up as well, the soil sample from the trees long having been collected in the little plastic bag.

“You know, on all those post-high school things, I always said I wanted to be a mechanic because that’s what my dad does. But….”

“You don’t want to follow in his footsteps?” proffered Castiel.

“It’s kind of hard to follow the footsteps of an alcoholic.” There was a bitterness in Dean’s voice that Castiel wished he could scrub away. The unhappy smirk on Dean’s lips died as the words sank in. “Sorry, you don’t need to hear about that junk.”

“You can talk about it if you’d like to,” Castiel said. Unconsciously, his hand moved to touch Dean’s, to hold his, to show him comfort. As soon as Castiel became aware of what he was doing, their fingers touched, and even though it didn’t feel electric, the simple brushing of skin made Castiel’s heart curl. It took him all of a second to remember the feeling from when he found D’s letter, and another half of a second to realize that Castiel would rather have Dean than D. Not just because D was a no-show or because he was, as Dean had described him, a jellyfish, but because Dean was tangible. Castiel couldn’t touch D. Couldn’t tell him, “I wouldn’t mind.”

There was a stunned look in Dean’s eyes. The color reminded Castiel of the grass staining his knees. “It’s… it’s not a very good story.”

“You don’t have to tell me,” Castiel told him. “I understand.”

Dean looked at the soil in the bag for a long moment, shuffling it in his hands while he thought. At last, he said in a cracking voice, “My mom died when I was a kid. There was this fire, and she died trying to save us. My dad wasn’t the same after. He… he drank a lot. That was his coping mechanism.”

Castiel remembered when his own parents passed away and how everyone had been giving him condolences and telling him his parents were among angels now. Reciting this to Dean seemed wrong, so Castiel did what he had wished people would have done for him: he tugged Dean’s hand and pulled him in for a hug. Dean froze up for a moment, but then he relaxed into it, his breath leaving in one large exhale. Castiel hugged Dean tighter.

“I remember going back to school after she… you know.” His head buried deeper into Castiel’s neck as he continued as if he could hide from the pain by sheltering there, and Castiel held him like he could protect Dean from it. “I remember… you didn’t say anything. Everyone else, they wanted details and they’d ask me generic questions. ‘Are you okay?’ Yeah, ‘cause some kid is going to be okay after his mom dies.”

Castiel furrowed his brow as he tried to remember when Dean had lost his parents, and he felt regretful that he couldn’t revoke the memory. Castiel didn’t even remember when Dean flitted into his consciousness, although he supposed it happened sometime during high school. That Dean has this memory of Castiel and Castiel doesn’t have the same of Dean makes his chest burn guiltily.

When it seemed that Dean wasn’t going to say any more, Castiel whispered into his ear, “Thank you for telling me.”

Neither said anything else, preferring to just stand there in each other’s arms. Dean smelled like the interior of the Impala, and he also smelled like the earth, and he also smelled like something familiar, a scent on the edge of a memory Castiel couldn’t call forth for the life of him. He was solely in the present now, grounded by Dean’s tightening arms and the way his hand sometimes rubbed Castiel’s back as if he was the one who needed comfort, not Dean.

Eventually, Dean gave him one rough pat and peeled himself out of Castiel’s arms. Castiel found himself selfishly wanting Dean’s warmth again, but he held back touching him. They both looked at the ground until Dean piped up, “I want to be a firefighter.”

Castiel imagined Dean in bunker gear, storming out of a burning building with a victim in his arms. Saving people like his mother had him. Castiel smiled. “You will make an excellent firefighter,” he promised.

“Thanks.” They began to walk back to the parking lot, their steps synchronized. “How about you, huh? Ten years down the road, what do you want to be?”

“I don’t know,” Castiel admitted. “Isn’t that amazing?”

Dean was looking at him with an odd expression, an emerald ocean beneath the sun Castiel could drown in. “Yeah, I guess it is.”

+

_When Dean came home one night after a hasty go in the Impala with a brunette from his history class, Sam was quick to corner him in the bathroom, arms crossed and expression bitchface-y. Sighing, Dean asked, “What?”_

_“I just don’t understand,” Sam said, “Why you keep going out with girls when you like Cas.”_

_“Are we seriously going to talk about that?” The truth or dare nightmare had been four days ago, and so far no one had mentioned his stupid crush since. Of course Sam would be the first one to bring it up._

_“I just want to know,” Sam said. He wasn’t going to budge from the doorway until he got some answers, Dean knew, so he gave up. What other options did he have? Starve? Sam would hold dinner above his head if need be, and damn was Dean famished._

_He didn’t really know how to explain to his little brother how he didn’t think he had any chance with someone like Cas. See, Dean knew that despite all of his awkward growth spurts and nerdiness, Sam could probably go for any decent girl on campus. There was something intrinsic about Sam that made people of all ages, genders, and social statuses like him. Dean, on the other hand, was the exact opposite. People tolerated him, sure, but none of them ever wanted something more than a quickie in the backseat. And Cas? He was just too nice for Dean: teachers never found fault with him, his grades didn’t tank, his life was normal and well-rounded. He didn’t even know who Dean was - that’s how good he was. And Dean wasn’t about to corrupt any of that._

_“Same reason people masturbate,” Dean deflected. “It’s fun.” With a cheeky smirk and a pat on Sam’s shoulder, Dean hedged around his brother and made a beeline for the pantry for a pack of Cheetos._

+

Dean drove Castiel home in the Impala. There was silence save for the rumble of the car, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. Castiel liked that he and Dean didn’t seem to need to fill the silences with words, although certainly their conversations were nice as well.

Instead of hating D for being absent to their appointment again, Castiel found himself thanking the faceless admirer Cas had been blindingly pining after for the past month. If he had shown up, Castiel wouldn’t have had the time with Dean that he had. And even though Dean obviously didn’t reciprocate these feelings that were fast growing inside Castiel, Castiel didn’t mind. Dean was real; D was not.

When the Impala finally came to a stop in front of New Warren, Castiel turned to Dean. “Would you like to come inside?”

The question seemed to surprise Dean. “Uh… sure. Sounds like fun.”

Castiel gave him a smile. “Michael may be home, but he will leave soon. He has a dinner to attend.”

“So it’ll just be us two?”

“Yes, Dean, that’s what I’ve just said.”

“Oh, okay. You go on ahead; I’ll catch up in a hot second. I’ve just gotta text Sammy.”

Castiel nodded and got out of the car.

Michael was sitting at his desk when Castiel pushed open the door to their apartment. He looked a quick brush away from leaving for his dinner. “Good afternoon, Castiel.”

“Good afternoon, brother,” Castiel replied.

“Who is that?” Michael asked. He was squinting outside, and when Castiel turned to see what he was looking at, he saw Dean walking from the Impala to their apartment.

“Dean Winchester,” Castiel replied. “He drove me home.”

“Since when are you friends with a Dean Winchester?” Michael inquired.

The question made Castiel pause. “Since now, I guess.”

Michael’s eyebrow hitched up, but he didn’t ask further. “I’ll be on my way shortly to leave you alone.”

Castiel was shocked into silence for a moment. Michael had rarely let him and Anna have privacy, so much so that Castiel had told Anna she couldn’t come over. Then again, Michael didn’t know Castiel was gay, so he had probably worried that he and Anna would act inappropriately, and he probably wasn’t worried now with Castiel advancing on Dean. Although Castiel didn’t like to lie to his brother, he was thankful Michael was in the dark about his sexuality.. “Thank you, Michael.”

Something vibrated in his pocket as Dean knocked on the door. Clicking the ‘ignore’ button by feel alone, Castiel went to the door. He felt a trill of excitement seeing Dean there, and he had to just take a moment to admire the way the sunlight illuminated Dean and how dashing he looked in his jacket.

“Are you gonna let me in, Cas?” Dean teased. Castiel snapped out of his fixation with a blush.

“Yes, of course.” He stepped aside to allow Dean inside, feeling slightly self-conscious that the first thing Dean would see was the living room and it’s frames of angels on the mantle, blankets covered in cat fur, and half-eaten pumpernickel bagels (Castiel’s favorite, much to Michael’s distaste).

Michael watched them for a moment before closing his computer and rising from his chair. “I’ll be back tonight, Castiel,” he said, and with that he was gone with his briefcase and his jacket. Dean and Castiel were alone yet again, but now, for the first time, without the sound of the wind and birds or the Impala, Castiel felt a shade awkward. What did one do when inviting a friend over? Castiel thought about video games, but he and Michael were too "boring" (Anna's words) to invest in a gaming system.

“Um… would you like a drink?” Castiel asked. He knew his uncertainty colored his voice plainly despite his attempts to hide it.

“Yeah, water’s cool.”

Castiel nodded and withdrew to the kitchen to fill two glasses with tap water. Coming back, he saw Muffler letting Dean scratch his jaw. Castiel took a moment just to watch them, as it was strange the long-haired cat let anyone touch her in such a vulnerable area. When Dean noticed Castiel standing there, he smirked. “Your tabby likes me.”

“She’s a calico.” He placed the glasses on the nearest flat surface.

Dean nodded. “Not much of a cat person. Or a dog person. I’m just not really a pet person.”

“Muffler seems to like you,” Castiel pointed out. The feline was nearly putty in Dean’s capable hands. Castiel envied her a great deal. Dean’s hands, though seasoned and scarred from work, were gentle as they brushed Muffler’s flank.

He shrugged. “What can I say, I’m a charming guy.”

“You flatter yourself.” Castiel rolled his eyes, but secretly he agreed with him. Dean was certainly attractive in every aspect, even his brazen personality.

“That wasn’t denial,” Dean smirked.

Castiel glared hard at him.

“Come on, Cas, admit it: I’m a cool guy.”

Rather than inflate Dean’s ego further, Castiel asked, “Why do you call me that?” The question had been nagging at him through calculus class as the nickname echoed in his ears whenever his thoughts strayed from the lesson.

“What? Cas?”

“Yes.”

Dean shrugged again. “It’s a nickname. If you don’t like it, I can stop.”

“No.” Castiel liked it. In fact, he liked it so much he wanted to hear Dean repeat it, moan it. Castiel wanted to lick it out of his mouth and taste it for himself.

Dean was nodding, completely oblivious to the nature of Castiel’s thoughts. “That’s cool. ‘Castiel’ is kind of a mouthful anyway.”

Oh, and there he goes again. The mental image of Dean’s lips wrapped around Castiel’s engorged dick beset his mind, nearly overtaking reality in its viciousness. Dean, dreamy-eyed and wanton as he gazed up at Castiel, his freckled skin shiny with sweat in the moonlight, moaning like an expert around Castiel’s girth. His moans hitched when Castiel seized a handful of his hair between his fingers.

Castiel snapped out of the fantasy when a knock sounded from the other side of the door. Startled and confused and more than a little aroused, Castiel stared at the door as if it could bite. The person outside knocked again.

“You gonna get that?” Dean asked, eyebrows raised. Castiel nodded after a moment.

“Michael must have forgotten something.”

However, when he opened the door, the person behind it was not his brother. Anna stood there with her books in her arms and her hair falling around her like velvet curtains. She looked at Castiel with sympathy in her eyes. “Hey, Castiel,” she greeted. “I’m sorry about-” Her eyes slid from Castiel to something behind him. When her eyes widened and her mouth opened, Castiel knew she’d spotted Dean. “Hello, Dean. I didn’t think I’d ever see you here.”

“He drove me home,” Castiel told her. He didn’t want her to get the wrong idea that he and Dean were more involved, especially since she had dated him before, no matter how short the encounter lasted. “What are you doing here?”

Anna gave him a look that nearly screamed ‘are you kidding me?’ “I texted you after practice. I told you I’d come over.”

“Oh, I must not have gotten your text.” Although, now that Anna mentioned a text, Castiel remembered getting one and ignoring it in favor of Dean. He wished he had looked at it so he could have told Anna not to bother visiting. As much as he loved his friend, Castiel didn’t want what was sure to be an awkward scenario unfold. He could already see it starting.

“The cell towers around here aren’t very reliable.” The glint in Anna’s eyes, however, told Castiel that she was onto his lie. Castiel nodded guiltily. “I’m sorry. I’ll come by later, if that’s okay with you, and we can talk about D.”

“D?”

“You haven’t told him about D?” Anna asked.

“I have,” Castiel said. “I must not have mentioned his name.”

“Two letters is hardly a name,” pointed out Anna.

Dean was clearly lost. “What?”

Sighing, Anna recounted the story to him as she shrugged out of her coat. “About a month ago, Castiel received a note asking to meet him at the park. Today, he found another letter asking the same thing. Both letters were signed _D_.”

“Oh, that asshat,” Dean remarked. Anna stared at him with confusion in her eyes until he elaborated. “You know, standing up Cas like that, it’s a dick move. Hence, ‘asshat’. Cas can do better than that.”

A warmth effloresced beneath Castiel’s sternum at Dean’s defense. The other boy flicked his eyes over to Castiel, and Castiel realized he was smiling at him too much, and a different sort of warmth overtook him, although he did not tear his eyes away from Dean’s emerald ones.

“What is it to you?” Anna asked, effectively snapping whatever spell Castiel and Dean had been under.

“You know, I care about his well-being and all that jazz,” Dean explained. “He’s my friend.”

Anna’s eyebrow quirked up, and she turned her burning inquisition to Castiel. “I didn’t know you guys were close.”

Castiel was still looking at Dean in disbelief that he had called them friends, so Dean was left to tell Anna, “Well, it’s a recent phenomenon.”

Anna sized Dean up, her lips pursed to hold back a smile. The gleam in her eyes made Castiel curious, as he’d seen it before when Becky and Chuck joined them for lunch. He wanted to ask Anna what she was thinking, but before he could voice his question, Dean spoke up.

“I should get going. Sam needs his soil samples.” Dean grinned his normal leer and winked his eye. “Catch you later, Cas. Thanks for helping.”

Castiel frowned at his retreating form, and when the door closed behind him, Castiel frowned at that, too, for lack of anything else to scowl at. Beside him, Anna turned and smiled, her pink lips splitting to show her teeth. “ _Cas?_ ”

“It’s a nickname.”

“Do you know what nicknames mean?”

He thought about it for a moment. Was this a trick question? “The shortening of a name.”

“No, silly.” Anna shoved him playfully. “It’s a sign of affection.”

“Affection?”

“Yes, Castiel, get with the program!”

“You haven’t given me a nickname,” Castiel accused.

“That’s because I harbor no intimate feelings for you,” Anna teased. Her smile shone in her olive eyes.

Castiel had to set Anna straight. “Dean shortened my name because ‘Castiel’ was too long, not out of any inclination,” he said _._ This was the obvious answer, after all. Dean had said it to himself. (Castiel’s mind helpfully echoed the word _mouthful_ and supplied the visions that had overcome him within half a second of hearing that word for the first time from Dean’s wonderful, full-).

Rolling her eyes, Anna wandered deeper into the apartment and rooted through the pantry. She came up with Pop-Tarts, which she proceeded to unwrap and insert into the toaster. “You’re missing the point. Dean Winchester gave you a nickname. That means he likes you. Plus, he drove you home after D stood you up, and he didn’t have any obligation to. This is a good thing, Castiel.”

He considered her line of thought. While it was a stretch, perhaps Dean did like him. After all, Dean did keep him company in the library and drove him home twice. But were the other teen’s intentions friendly or deeper than that? As Castiel pondered this, the toaster beeped and sprung up the Pop-Tarts. Anna handed him one burning pastry and bit into her own.

“Should I give him a nickname?” Castiel asked. “Since they’re signs of affection?”

“Maybe, but it’s not as if you can shorten ‘Dean’ any further. Unless you start calling him D, which…” Anna trailed off when she saw Castiel’s grimace. “Yeah, it’s not the same. You could call him honeybear or sweetheart. But again… yeah.” They stood in the kitchen for a moment in silence as they ate their Pop-Tarts. “Why was he at the park anyway?” Anna wondered suddenly, eyebrows puzzled. “Do you think-”

“No.” Castiel shook his head. Dean was not D, and Castiel refused to entertain the notion anymore. D was, as Dean said, an asshat. Dean was not. “I’m done with D. It was unfair that he did not show himself. Twice.”

“Are you sure, though?” she pressed. “Think about it: Dean just _happens_ to be at Jackson Park at the same time as your date-”

“His brother asked him to collect soil samples.”

“-The first letters of his name match the ones on the letter-”

“Coincidence.”

“Castiel!” Anna angrily threw her arms up, eyes blazing. “Would you stop passing off these coincidences to fit this unworthy image of yourself? You believed D liked you, but now you won’t believe the same about Dean? You are deserving of a happily ever after. Dean likes you. Even if he isn’t D, he still likes you a lot. Let me tell you, Castiel. I’ve known Dean for a long time, and I haven’t seen him look at anyone the way he looks at you.”

The clock on the living room wall ticked by the seconds, and with each tick, Castiel felt the charge in the air dissipate. Anna’s shoulders were relaxing, the glare in her eyes diminishing. Castiel let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding.

“I know you like him, too,” Anna continued, her voice much softer. “There was… hope in your eyes when I suggested Dean could be D. Don’t deny it, Castiel. I’m your best friend; I’ve known you for years.”

They were silent for several more moments while Castiel attempted to find something to say. “Thank you,” he said.

Anna smiled at him and knocked their Pop-Tarts together like a celebratory toast. “Whenever you need it,” she said. “Now let’s pay the Winchester residence a visit.”

Castiel’s heart hammered resoundingly in his chest. The Pop-Tart felt drier than usual in his mouth, and it was difficult to swallow. Anna saw the distress on Castiel’s face, and she reached out to calm him, placing both hands on his shoulders.

“You’ll do stunningly,” she vowed. “All you need to do is tell Dean you have feelings for him.”

“Is that all?” If it really was that simple, why did it feel like Castiel’s heart was going to burst?

“Well, mostly.” She squeezed his shoulders. “Even if we are wrong - which I don’t think we are - it’s better to try and fail than do nothing at all, right?”

Castiel nodded. “You’re right.”

“I know I am.” Her eyes glittered, and she polished off her Pop-Tart, licking the crumbs off her fingers. “Okay, first things first-”

A knock on the door interrupted Anna from continuing her sentence. They looked over to the door, but from the kitchen they could not see who was behind it. Anna shrugged. Castiel said, “Maybe it is Michael this time.”

It was not Michael.

“Dean.”

+

_“Dean who?” Castiel asked, trying to put a face to the name Anna had given him._

_“Dean Winchester.” There was a faraway look in her eyes as she, no doubt, was thinking upon this boy’s surely exquisite features._

_“Do you like him?”_

_“Sure.” Her reply came out a bit too uncertainly for Castiel to like, and, seeing Castiel begin to frown, Anna immediately rectified her answer. “I mean, who wouldn’t? He’s handsome, he’s kind, he’s smart.”_

_“He sounds generic,” Castiel grumbled. None of those adjectives described anyone astounding, much less memorable._

_“You’d say different if you knew him,” insisted Anna._

_“Surely.” Anna glared at him for his dry tone. “Where is he?”_

_Unsurely, Anna cast a glance around the cafeteria. “I don’t know.”_

_“You’re dating him and you have no idea where he is?”_

_“I’m not going to put him on a leash,” Anna said. “Did you know where Balthazar was every moment of the day when you were going out with him?”_

_Anna did have a point there. Still, Castiel did not like this. Dean didn’t sound like anyone special, least of all to Anna. If Anna did like him, why was Castiel only just now hearing about him from her? Anna tended to talk about everyone she had the slightest inkling of interest in, from Michael (and that had been a nightmare conversation Castiel wanted to wipe from his memory) to Chuck Shurley._

_“Besides, here he comes,” Anna announced with a smile that made her eyes seem brighter. Castiel had to acquiesce that anyone who made Anna smile like that was acceptable in his book. He turned around to see who this mysterious Dean Winchester was and found himself staring up into the sun._

+

“What are you doing here?” Anna asked from behind Castiel seeing as Castiel was currently unable to do anything other than stare back at Dean.

“I, uh.” Dean looked down at his shoes briefly, and Castiel thought that was a sign of nervousness. “Can I come in?”

“Of course.” Castiel opened the door wider to let Dean in, and as he stepped inside, his hand brushed against Castiel’s for a moment. His fingers twitched in response, too late to hold Dean’s.

“I should get going,” Anna said, edging around the two of them and reaching for her coat. “Talk to me tomorrow?”

Anna would be expecting a full report of this encounter, no doubt, much like film teachers expect their students to analyze every frame of each movie they watch in class in a five page essay. Castiel nodded. “Of course.”

With Dean's back to them, Anna mouthed the words, “Go get him, tiger,” through her smile. Then, she pressed a goodbye kiss to Castiel’s cheek and closed the door behind herself.

They were alone. Again.

“So, uh, you’re probably wondering what I’m doing here…”

Castiel nodded. He didn’t think he could trust himself to open his mouth without embarrassing words falling out.

“Umm.” Dean’s face was red, making his freckles stand out yet again.

Before he knew what he was doing, the words, “I like you,” came tumbling from Castiel’s mouth. In the dust that settled, he could scarcely hear anything above the hammering of his pulse in his ears.

“Well, now we have a problem,” Dean started, and Castiel felt his heart begin to sink until Dean continued. “You like me, and I like you.”

Castiel paused. “I don’t see the problem.” Then Dean’s words actually hit him. _You like me, and I like you._ His eyes widened and his jaw fell slack. “You-”

“Yeah, and you.”

They stared at each other for an immeasurable time. It was a wonder Dean couldn’t hear Castiel’s thundering heartbeat. Eventually, Dean cracked a smile, and Castiel couldn’t help but mirror it. The crinkles at the corners of Dean’s eyes were the most enchanting things ever.

Eventually, Castiel noticed the silence, and once he noticed he couldn’t stop. So he tentatively asked, “What now?”

Dean shrugged. “Whatever you want to.”

He thought about it for only a moment before the answer came to him. “I’d like to kiss you.”

“You can do that.”

So he did. Plainly, simply. There might not have been fireworks or an uncontrollable, animal need to have Dean right then and there, but it was still the best kiss of Castiel’s life so far. And if the small moan Dean elicited was any indication and if Castiel could dream, Dean’s thoughts aligned similarly with Castiel’s.

When the broke apart, Castiel was surprised to find that both of their breaths were coming in harshly. Dean’s lips - glassy, red - twitched into a smile.

“That has been on my mind for a long, long time,” he admitted.

Castiel realized Dean was holding him by the hips while Castiel’s fingers were in Dean’s hair. He blinked and tore his eyes away from Dean’s arms.

“How long?”

“A long, long time.”

“You’re impossible.”

“I don’t even know, Cas. Years? Can’t give you a time and date or anything, sorry.”

Because he could, Castiel kissed Dean again. “That’s fine. I probably couldn’t either.”

Secretly, he felt a little guilty that he hadn’t crushed on Dean for as long as Dean had him, but when Dean dipped in to capture his lips again, Castiel realized that it didn’t really matter. Somehow they were both there now. That was all that mattered at that point.

“So, Friday night, house all to ourselves, what do we want to do?” Dean’s thumbs rubbed twin circles into his hipbones.

“I have to finish my CBA,” Castiel answered without thinking about all of the other possibilities.

“That’s cool. I should probably get my chemistry work done.” He kissed Castiel one more time before stepping back. “Just let me grab my stuff from my car.”

“I’ll be in my room.”

Castiel was already situated on his bed with his government book and CBA papers when Dean knocked on the doorframe with his schoolbag in his hands and a sheepish smile on his lips. “Knock knock?”

“You may enter.” He cleared a spot for Dean beside him, shoving pillows and half-read books out of the way.

“Nice digs you’ve got here,” Dean commented as he looked around. Castiel watched as Dean took in everything from his overflowing bookshelf to his coatrack to his wall of awards and - no! He froze as Dean’s gaze fell upon D’s letter. “What’s that?”

Castiel wished he’d taken the time while Dean was out to remove the notes from the wall. “Those are the letters my secret admirer sent me,” Castiel admitted. He watched Dean’s face, but it didn’t betray much emotion. “I would fantasize,” Castiel went on, “That they were you.”

Instead of making a comment on Castiel’s confession, Dean ripped the older note from its thumbtack to scrutinize it closer. Worry restricted Castiel’s breath as each second passed in waiting for Dean to say something. At last, he croaked, “Son of a bitch.”

“What?”

“I’m going to kill my brother.”

Confused as to where that had come from, Castiel ventured, “I hope you’re being figurative, because, quite frankly, I like your brother, and the punishment for first degree murder in Kansas is twenty five years to -”

“Of course I’m being figurative, Cas!” Dean exclaimed. “What? You think I’d kill my own brother?”

“You just said-”

“I know what I said!” Dean thrusted the paper to Castiel. It was even more ripped and crumpled than before. He took it from Dean’s grasp.

“I don’t understand, Dean.”

Dean jabbed a finger at the note. “That’s his handwriting.”

“Your brother?”

“Yes, Cas.”

The information processed through Castiel’s brain, but it only served to make him more confused than he already was. “Why would your brother write a letter like this one to me only to sign it with a D?”

“Because he knows I like you,” Dean said.

“So was he… attempting to make you jealous?” Castiel tried.

“I don’t know what was going through that gigantic brain of his,” Dean said. “Maybe the only dumb thing he’s ever done.”

The silence that followed allowed Castiel to think clearly. From Dean’s conclusions, Castiel has, for the last month, been imagining who was on the other end of the pen, crushing on this person, going so far as to even masturbate to fantasies involving them - and this person has been Sam Winchester the entire time. He felt the color drain out of his face.

As horrifying as this was, Castiel had to think more objectively about this. “Perhaps he wasn’t being dumb.”

“What’s that?”

“You did, after all, get jealous, didn’t you?”

Dean waffled. “I mean, a little bit, yeah. But I wasn’t going to do anything. Didn’t want to ruin your whole fairytale happily ever after. That’s an even bigger dick move than what Sam did.”

“What changed your mind then?” Castiel had to ask.

“I honestly have no idea.”

“Well, I’m glad for it, whatever the reason was.”

The line melted the vexation off of Dean’s face. Castiel appreciated the warm smile that replaced it, and he appreciated it even more when Dean bent down to kiss him with it.

“If you’re going to keep saying stuff like that,” Dean murmured, “You’re not going to be able to breathe ‘cause I’m just going to keep kissing you.”

“That would be tolerable,” Castiel said before leaning back into the kiss.


End file.
